


Not So Clean

by Sketchyfletch



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, also some light dommy/sub stuff going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-20 22:45:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15543813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sketchyfletch/pseuds/Sketchyfletch
Summary: Shepard joins Samantha in the shower. PWP ensues. Some hints at actual feelings.





	Not So Clean

I was in a smut-writing mood and these two won the dice roll in my head for the subjects. Hope you enjoy!

-

The rumours have not been exaggerated. Not only does Shepard have a shower in her quarters, it is top-of-the-range. No trying to make a dribble and a hard sliver of soap work for this Commander. Sam eyes it enviously as she dawdles past, and realises she isn’t being as subtle as she thinks she is when Shepard chuckles. “Did you actually come up here to play chess with me, or because you wanted to ogle my plumbing?”

Sam laughs, although the sound comes out a little high-pitched. “I…well…the game, obviously.”

Shepard settles onto her sofa, long legs curling beneath her like a cat, and gestures expansively towards the bathroom with an amused expression. “Go ahead, Traynor. You can try it out, if you like.”

She shouldn’t. It’d be a bit rude, and well beyond proper behaviour in front of a commanding officer, and she doesn’t want Shepard to think she was actually cultivating a friendship just so she could get some privileges out of it. Despite the spark she’s sometimes caught in the Commander’s eyes, she doesn’t know for certain if Shepard is interested, and even now she isn’t sure if she is flirting or just being extraordinarily kind. Opting to believe the latter for safety’s sake, Sam clears her throat. “I. Well, I’ll just be getting my things.”

“No need. I have towels up here, and I’m willing to bet the shampoo they gave me’s a bit better than what they issue to crew.”

That doesn’t give her time to go, rethink this and maybe panic over it. Sam can’t decide if it is a blessing or a curse, but then Shepard politely turns away, although Sam can hear the grin in her voice as she speaks over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.”

Sam strips out of her clothes, looking around before fastidiously folding them over the side of the nearby desk, and then steps into the shower and turns it on.

Oh, it is everything she’d hoped for. The water is warm, and the pressure at a perfect intensity. She rolls her head forward, letting the stream hit the pressure point at the back of her neck and groans. “This is perfect, Commander. Thank you.”

Shepard’s voice echoes distantly from over the water. “Take your time. But save some of that hot water. I’ll be right in after you.” Sam hears a long sigh. “It’s been a busy day.”

Sam doesn’t know what it is that makes her speak. Before she realises what she’s doing, she calls through. “You could always join me in here, if you’re feeling impatient. I won’t mind.”

She squeezes her eyes shut with embarrassment, and there Is silence from outside. And then, slowly the sound of movement, boots tapping against the metal floor. Coming closer. Shepard’ voice, in a different timbre than she’s ever heard it before.

“Do you mean that, Traynor?”

Oh god. She should shut this down right now, before she gets told off. Her heard thuds heavily and she draws in a breath before she finds her words. “Come in and find out.”

She waits for the rebuke. There’s another pause, and then she hears the rough whisper of clothing being removed. Sam is facing the wall because she knows if Shepard comes around that doorway in all her naked glory, she won’t know what to do or where to look. She’s thought about this, of course, but this wasn’t something she thought would actually happen.

Footsteps splash in the water. “Maybe I can assist you.” Something brushes between her shoulderblades, and she jumps before she realises it’s just a sponge being worked over her skin. Shepard lifts her hair to expose the back of her neck. “I find people so often forget about the little nooks and crannies. I’ve never felt cleaner than when somebody else has helped me with it.”

Sam’s breath comes out in a sort of panicked giggle. “You do have a reputation for being helpful.” She has to supress a whimper as the sponge is worked over her methodically, starting at the neck, down to the shoulders, along her arms. Shepard reaches around and works the sponge over her breasts, and Sam has to press her hands against the wall to stop her knees from giving way. The sponge moves down, over her hips and thighs, and Shepard’s chin is resting on her shoulder and she can feel the other woman’s breasts pressed against her back, and hear the increasingly erratic rasp of breath at her ear.

She parts her legs a little, and Shepard’s free hand presses against her stomach and trails downwards…

Fingers slick through her folds, just once, and Shepard growls as her legs shake. “Turn around.”

She obeys immediately, leaning against the wall as her wide eyes meet Shepard’s. It’s a long way from her first time, and she’s not a stranger to a hungry stare, but she’s never seen one this intense. Shepard looks like she wants to _devour_ her.

She whimpers, Shepard drops the sponge and presses her body against her, pinning her against the wall. Teeth tug at her earlobe and she grasps at Shepard’s shoulders.

Shepard murmurs. “How far do you want this to go, Traynor?”

How is she supposed to answer with this woman in front of her – a woman she’s been dreaming about since she first saw her face on an infovid, and fantaisizing about ever since she met her in person? She knows being worshipped would make the other woman uncomfortable, and somebody who doesn’t have something worthwhile to contribute – to a conversation, to a plan, to a fight – is usually ignored. Sam gathers her wits, and says exactly what she wants to say, offering Shepard a challenging stare of her own. “As far as you’ll dare, Commander.”

It was the right thing to say. Shepard grins at her, and then leans in to kiss her. It’s as hot as the water still pouring over them, but slow, and Sam realises that Shepard is learning her. She’s exploring her slowly, her hands stroking down her arms now as her tongue teases and she nips and goes in harder where she earns a moan. Fingers curl in her hair and pull her neck to one side and then Shepard’s mouth is there, first a kiss, then a slow curl of the tongue that makes Sam realise what the other woman will be able to do elsewhere and nearly makes her push Shepard to her knees, and then she closes her mouth over the skin and sucks with increasing pressure until Sam digs her fingernails into Shepard’s shoulders.

While Shepard is ravaging her neck, her breasts are pressed against Sam’s, and the slick remains of the lather from the sponge causes them to glide over each other. Sam could just stand here and let Shepard take over completely, letting herself do or say whatever the Commander orders. Instead she grabs the other woman’s hips, guiding her until one thigh slides between her legs and Shepard gasps against her skin, before chuckling.

“It seems you don’t need much direction at the moment.”

 _At the moment_ implies more will come later. That this isn’t just a quick fumble in the shower to blow off the little steam that the water alone couldn’t release. Sam doesn’t have much longer than a few seconds to think about the implications of that before Shepard is returning the favour, a leg between hers, and then they’re grinding against each other, breaths stuttering and gasping, hands roving from hair to breasts to hips. Shepard runs her hand up between their bodies and rolls Sam’s nipple between her fingers, and Sam almost comes right there as the jolt joins the mounting pleasure from the friction of Shepard’s thigh against her.

Shepard hears it. In the next moment, Sam’s getting a full display of what years of marine training can do, as without even registering the transition she goes from standing up to splayed on the floor of the oversized shower room. Shepard is at her knees, pulling her legs up over her shoulders. Sam presses her arms against the floor to steady herself as her hips are lifted to bring her level with Shepard’s mouth. Hot breath hits her and her fingers scrabble on the tiles as Shepard slowly sweeps her tongue over her.

It doesn’t stay slow. Shepard knows exactly what she’s doing and her tongue traces a pattern over the spot that makes Sam’s eyes roll back, and then she draws her clit into her mouth and sucks, softly to begin with and then with increasing intensity. The tip of her tongue continues with the pattern and Sam squirms and gasps and cries out, feeling every muscle in her body drawn tight. Shepard is leaning almost directly over her now, arms tight around her hips and eyes locked with hers as she sends Sam spiralling higher and higher. She’s so close and it’s been such a long time since she came by anything but her own efforts and she writhes, and then pulls tight, her body one long line of tension before the approaching wave crashes suddenly over her and Shepard’s name is echoing off the walls.

Shepard is a merciful person by nature, but doesn’t seem to be now. She keeps working her tongue over her, chasing each aftershock with another, until finally Sam has to grasp her hand and gasp. “Stop! Please, I need to – I need to-!”

“Breathe.” Shepard lowers her to the floor and Sam lies there bonelessly for a moment as she sucks in air, still feeling the pulsing throb of her clit. Shepard is crawling up her, grinning slowly. The Command is powerful, and Sam has admired her in many ways before now, but she looks beautiful and feral right now, her hair gleaming from the water and the muscles in her arms defined more clearly than Sam has ever noticed before. Shepard kisses her, and Sam reciprocates without thought, wrapping her arms around her.

For a few long moments, they lie entwined on the floor, until the water begins to run cold. Then Shepard gets up, and holds out a hand to Sam. “Perhaps we should continue this on the bed.”

Sam still feels electricity running under her skin, and while her legs tremble a little on standing, she gets upright quickly. She feels greedy for Shepard. She wants more of her, and whatever Shepard is willing to give her.

It turns out that Shepard has slightly different thoughts. They towel each other down, and then Shepard proceeds to the cabinet by her bed and produces an item Sam knows well. Just looking at it and imagining what Shepard might do to her with it makes her wet all over again. She’s lost in that imagine when she realises Shepard is talking. “Have you worn one of these before?”

 _Oh._ She wants to be the one who…Sam swallows, her previous excitement still in place but now slightly tempered by fear. It’s easy to receive attention, but to give it and fear making a bad job of it is already a terrifying situation even without her partner being one of the most admired women in the galaxy. She manages to nod.

“Would you be comfortable doing so?” Shepard has caught her anxious air. The toy is set down for a moment as the Commander winds her fingers in Sam’s hair. “I wouldn’t do anything – or have you do anything to me – you don’t want to.” She smiles slightly. “You can always say stop, or that you don’t want to. I imagine somebody with your intellect could come up with a more than adequate substitute.”

“No! No, I mean, that’s not it. I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

Shepard’s smile softens. “You won’t. Trust me, just because I’d be taking it doesn’t mean I’d stop giving commands.”

That’s reassuring to hear. “I’d like to try it.”

Shepard gifts her with another kiss. The bed is another benefit of officer quarters – more room and more comfortable than the bunks downstairs. More than enough space for two women to roll around on it as they kiss and the heat between them mounts again. Shepard is generous. Even though she’s going to be the one receiving, she presses her fingers between Sam’s folds and strokes a firm circle over her clit again and again until she’s so wet that Shepard’s able to slip two fingers in with no resistance at all. As she does so, she speaks into Sam’s ear.

“The base of the harness will press against you just here.” A thumb grinds over her clit, eliciting another high whimper. “As you fuck me, you’ll feel something too. I want it hard and slow to begin with – can you do that for me, Traynor?”

She’ll do anything for the Commander at this moment, and she gasps out her response. “Yes! Yes, I want to-" _see Commander Shepard, crying out, spreading open, begging for more. From me_. “Yes, I want to – do that.”

“Good.” Shepard kisses her again, and presses the harness into her hands. “Put it on.”

There’s some fumbling, and once she’s pulled it up over her hips, Shepard helps her adjust the straps. Fingers dip into her again ( _so not fair_ ), and then Shepard uses her slickness on the toy, making it slick as well. And then she’s lying back, legs open for her, and Sam can only stare down at her because she’s so beautiful and strong and she’s been thinking about this for _months_ and she still can’t believe this is really happening.

But it is, and she reaches forward, at last taking the chance to explore. It’s her turn to grind her thumb slowly over Shepard until the other woman bites back a gasp. Bolder now, she presses one and then another finger into Shepard, then a third, rolling the heel of her palm against her. Shepard grabs at the blanket and gasps, and Sam spies an opportunity.

“You’re about as desperate as I was, aren’t you? You want this.”

Shepard chuckles, the sound darker and deeper than before, broken up by a gasp. “Yes, I want this. I want you to press that into me and screw me until I can’t remember anything outside this room.” She grabs Sam’s shoulders and growls at her. _“Now.”_

Sam doesn’t want to wait either. She lines herself up, and Shepard’s gaze is on her as though she’s the only thing that matters, and she sinks into the other woman so slowly that she sees every little twitch and shudder as she goes up to the hilt.

Another long, slow thrust, and another. The pressure on her is more of a general friction than anything specific, but it does feel good, and even that is dwarfed by the sensation of seeing Commander Shepard’s eyes blow wide and her teeth pull tight at her lip. She keeps one thumb still gently working Shepard’s clit, while the other hand slides up to roll her nipple between her fingertips. She wants to go faster, but she has patience. And a strategy. As the minutes roll on and her thrusts remain hard but slow, Shepard grabs her hip. _“Faster.”_

Sam obliges, but not by enough. Shepard is squirming with frustration and need, getting there but too slowly, her voice a dangerous growl. “Traynor…”

“Yes, Commander?” She’s quite enjoying this, actually. Even if she can barely keep her voice level. “Did you have an order?”

In the needy depths of Shepard’s eyes, there’s a glint of something that resembles respect. “I gave you that order.”

“I think I need to hear it again, with more detail.” Sam plays some quick circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves once more and Shepard almost levitates off the bed, heels digging into the mattress. When she comes back down, she grabs Sam’s hands, her gaze locking with the other woman’s.

“ _Fuck_ me, Sam. That’s an order.”

Sam’s always responded well to orders. She braces herself, and snaps her hips forward, and then they really are going for it, every thrust rubs against her as well and Shepard is crying out for more and faster and harder, and Sam gives it, wanting to see the Commander come undone, desperately chasing her own release alongside her. When Shepard starts to pull tight and curse, Sam is not far behind, and then Shepard clenches and cries out her name and it’s enough to take Sam over the edge seconds later, the two of them still moving together desperately with hard slaps of flesh until finally, they come to a halt. Sam is draped over Shepard’s body, both of them beading with sweat, and gasping.

Sam has just long enough to start worrying about the consequences of what she’s done when Shepard smiles and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “I know that look. Don’t go running out on me, now.” She sits up, sliding the toy from her, and kisses Sam. It’s slower and more tender than before. There’s still wickedness in the grin that follows, though. “Besides, I thought I might bend you over my desk next.”

The thought makes her breath catch, but she’s got the drift of what Shepard seems to like now, and she shoots back a smile of her own. “Sure you can take me on again, Commander? You seem a little winded.”

Shepard laughs. “I think I’d like to take you on any time, Sam.” _Sam_ , again. Not Traynor. Her own name has never sounded so appealing. “And I think under the circumstances, you can call me Aaliyah.”

Having feelings for her commander was already a bad move. Having feelings, inviting her into the shower and then fucking each other was pretty up there on the chart of poor decisions, but Sam can’t even pretend to regret it. And there was the slight hint that maybe, this was part of something else. Maybe Sam wasn’t the only one having feelings.

She grinned back. “As you say, Commander.”

It has the desired effect. She’s flipped on her back with her wrists pinned before she even sees Aaliyah move, and those dark eyes are taking her in again. This is such a bad place and bad time for feelings, and an even worse person to hang those feelings on, but she was already lost. Why not enjoy herself while she was here? “Naughty, aren’t you?” Shepard’s teeth have closed on her ear. “I’ll have to discipline you.” A finger plucks at the strap on her hip. “Take this off. It’s _my_ turn.”


End file.
